End of the World
by Rambling Scribe
Summary: A little filler that follows on immediately from the end of 2.5. A liquid lunch in 'The George'. Ruth, Harry and a light dusting of S2 characters.


**Disclaimer: Spooks belongs to Kudos and the BBC – I just borrow them from time to time for fun, not profit.**

**A/N: This is set immediately after 2.5.**

**

* * *

**Ruth swirled the dregs of wine around her glass, surprised there was so little left. She shouldn't be drinking on an empty stomach but, after the last twenty-eight hours, she felt in need of the alcohol.

She swallowed down the last of her drink and began to idly survey the pub. Danny, Zoë and Sam were standing near the bar, laughing and joking; Malcolm and Colin, looking far more animated than usual, were talking to some of the admin staff. Her gaze shifted to the far corner where Tom was sitting, mobile phone pressed to his ear, having what appeared to be a very intense conversation with someone.

"Would you like another?"

The voice that interrupted her covert surveillance belonged to Harry. He had worked his way, unobserved, through the lunchtime crowds and was standing directly in front of her.

"Er…Harry…" She could feel herself blushing as she tried to organise her thoughts. "I-I shouldn't really. I ought to go…things to d-do," she stuttered, refusing to meet the intense gaze being directed at her.

"Is that a yes or a no," he asked, head slightly tilted, the hint of a smile on his lips.

"S-sorry."

"Well, I'm going to have another drink." He started to move towards the bar.

"OK, I will," Ruth blurted out to his retreating back.

He turned to look at her. "Any preference?" he nodded towards the glass she still clutched.

"No, no. It's just house red."

_You're on probation._ Tom's words echoed in her head as she watched Harry at the bar. She wasn't certain if he knew she was the mole but she had no desire to make her position any more tenuous. When he returned with their drinks, she would apologise to him for her earlier outburst. She knew there would be a debriefing session sometime the following week, and their behaviour during the exercise would be one of the things commented on, but she preferred to deal with the issue now. She would just have to steel herself to take whatever admonishment Harry saw fit to dish out and hope that would be the end of the matter.

"Thank you," she smiled, weakly, taking the fresh glass of wine he handed to her. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier…for calling you a…bastard. I-I really-"

"Don't worry. It was a stressful situation." He shrugged. "And probably a fair assessment of my behaviour."

She opened her mouth and then closed it again, at a loss to know what to say.

"Are you feeling all right, Ruth?" he enquired, concerned by the look on her face.

"Yes, I'm fine. Really, Harry."

He was unconvinced. "Sure? These exercises are quite draining. They leave you feeling…" He trailed off, apparently unable to find a suitable adjective to finish the sentence.

Ruth nodded although she wasn't entirely sure what she was agreeing with.

"This wasn't your first, was it? EERIE, I mean."

The solicitous tone of Harry's voice was surprising but not unwelcome and invited a more detailed response than she would normally have given.

"No. We did something similar at GCHQ two or three times but this was…this was different. More…realistic. More frightening."

He didn't reply and she found herself trying to analyse his expression, not easy at the best of times but he was looking particularly enigmatic at that moment. As she gazed at him, she was aware of a subtle change in the way he was looking at her. She couldn't decide exactly what it was; something in his eyes, perhaps, or the beginnings of a soft smile, which he rarely showed.

He both terrified and fascinated her; usually at the same time but rarely in equal measure. There were moments when she felt drawn to him, as if she was at the end of an invisible thread and he was slowly reeling her in. At other times, there seemed to be a massive barrier between them and she despaired of ever finding a way past it, of finding a way to him.

Someone knocked against her, simultaneously ending her reverie and causing some of her drink to slop over the side of the glass.

"Oaf," Harry muttered, scowling at the young man who had bumped into Ruth.

The registry clerk gabbled an apology and scurried off in the direction of the toilets, almost falling over his feet in the process.

Ruth guiltily stifled a laugh. "It _was_ an accident, Harry. You frightened the life out of the poor man."

"At least it's made you smile," he retorted, once again leaving her at a loss for words.

_xxx_

"Do you think we should rescue her?"

Sam's question was directed at Danny and Zoë but her attention was focused on Ruth and Harry.

"Hmm? Rescue who?" Danny asked, without much enthusiasm.

"Ruth," Sam replied, rolling her eyes. "For God's sake, Danny! Some spy you are. Harry's definitely talking _at_ her."

"I don't think he is," her colleague retorted, mildly hurt by her accusation. "What do you think, Zoë?"

The blonde turned her head slowly, until the subjects of the speculation were in her sight-line. "Difficult to say," she remarked, after a few seconds observation.

"We need to go over there."

As Sam started to move, Danny grabbed her arm. "Bad idea, trust me."

"But she called him a bastard earlier. There's no way he's going to let her get away with that."

"Who get away with what?" Tom questioned, planting himself in Sam's path and preventing her from moving any further.

"Sam's convinced Ruth is getting a dressing down," Zoë offered.

Tom's eyes barely flickered in Harry's direction. "No she's not. They're fine, leave them be."

Sam started to protest but was quickly cut off.

"Come on, let's get another drink. It's Danny's round."

_xxx_

"I'm keeping you from something," Harry said as Ruth tried, unsuccessfully, to discreetly look at her watch.

"No, not really."

"I'm sure you have plans. I hope they haven't been too disrupted."

She fidgeted with her wine glass. "Not specific plans. Just the usual, shopping, gardening."

"Normal, everyday things," Harry replied, a little wistfully.

"Yes." She paused. "What about you? Do you have plans for the weekend?" It was only after the words had left her mouth that she realised how impertinent the question sounded. And how intimate.

"Me?" he asked, faintly surprised. "Oh, all I have to look forward to is a meeting with the Head of Maintenance at four o'clock. No doubt he'll lecture me on the state the Grid has been left in and argue over whose budget the cost of the repairs is coming out of." He took a sip of his drink before continuing. "And tomorrow is paperwork."

"That's a shame." She started to blush. "I mean you don't even get one day off," she added, lamely.

"Goes with the territory, unfortunately."

Ruth hastily gulped down the rest of her wine. "I s-should get going. My cat will think I've deserted him."

"I'm sure he'll be delighted to see you," Harry replied, softly.

"He'd be delighted to see the Devil himself, providing he brought food."

Her comment elicited an unexpected chuckle from Harry and she found herself laughing as well.

When the sound of their amusement faded, they were left looking at one another.

"You'll be OK getting home?" Harry suddenly enquired.

She nodded. "Yes. I think I'll walk part of the way. It'll be nice to get some fresh air."

"Good idea."

"Harry." She fiddled nervously with her coat buttons. "I wanted to say thank you."

"What for?"

"In the meeting room, during the VX briefing…when I got…you asked Sam to take over." Her fingers continued to pluck at her coat. "That's what I wanted to say thank you for. You didn't have to do that but you did. And I'm grateful."

This time, Harry was the one left wondering what to say. He could tell her he'd done it for the good of the team; that it was a by-the-book response to her distress to prevent the others from becoming distracted from their tasks. The truth though, was that it had been a combination of guilt and compassion. It was one thing to watch his officers being deliberately lulled into believing the explosion had been real but quite another when he'd realised the effect it was having on Ruth. When she'd stood in front of them all, close to tears, something inside him had broken. Or perhaps it had mended.

"Well, I'll see you on Monday then," Ruth said, unsure as to how to interpret Harry's silence.

"Yes, you will." He smiled. "Enjoy the rest of your weekend."

He watched her leave the pub, carefully picking her way through the more boisterous drinkers, and waving at her younger colleagues. He watched her as she waited at the pedestrian crossing outside before she briskly crossed the road. He watched her until she disappeared from view. Out of sight but most definitely _not _out of mind.

**

* * *

Thanks for reading. :)  
**


End file.
